


The Coldest Journey

by Cantatrice18



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Games)
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Missing Scene, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24576043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: Stranded in the Himalayas, 9-year-old Lara must find some way to survive and reach civilization once more.
Kudos: 4





	The Coldest Journey

_Nepal, 11,000 ft._

The girl shivered as wind snaked through the ancient temple, slithering over the exposed skin of her neck. Her legs, protected only by sheer black tights, seemed to have turned to ice. She had never been so cold, not even on their family’s annual holiday in Switzerland. The Alps had nothing on the Himalayas. She knew she had to get a fire going, or she would surely freeze to death. But the temple seemed entirely made of stone. There might be more wood of some kind in the inner sanctum, but she couldn’t bear the thought of approaching those strange stones. Not after what had happened to her mother.

The thought of Lady Croft brought all her misery to the surface, and a few tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. “Mother, where are you?” she whispered.

Her heart leapt when she saw movement by the far door, but a moment later hope was replaced by fear. An enormous white leopard, no doubt attracted by her earlier cries, had made its way into the temple and was approaching fast. Lady Croft must not have closed the temple door all the way when they’d reached it, too relieved to find shelter atop the unforgiving mountain. 

Slowly, careful to make no sudden moves, Lara backed away until she reached the meager pile of wood her mother had managed to collect before the . . . incident.

By the woodpile lay Lara’s prize: a flare gun, taken from the wreckage of the jet. The thought of their downed plane, of the pair of bodies still inside it, sent another surge of grief through Lara’s slender frame. Ignoring the feeling, she recovered the flare gun and checked the magazine. 3 flares. 3 shots. 

The cat was on a level with her now, and had spotted her with its glowing yellow eyes. Taking aim with shaking hands, Lara fired. The flare missed entirely, striking the railing in a shower of sparks. The big cat growled and picked up the pace, stalking towards the girl with long, elegant strides. Lara scrambled back, aiming lower this time and praying her second attempt would hit. _If I live, I swear I’ll learn to shoot properly_ , she promised silently to whatever god was listening. She squeezed the trigger and the flare burst out, connecting with the floor an inch in front of the great cat. Sparks shot into the air, a blinding flash that left spots dancing across Lara’s vision. The leopard roared in shock and pain, muscles tensing. Ignoring caution, Lara ran for the exit. She could sense the cat close behind her, seconds from pouncing on her and ripping into her back. With one last prayer, she spun and fired wildly. 

Her final flare struck the cat’s chest just as it rose on its hind legs to pounce. The impact sent the creature stumbling back towards the edge of the seemingly bottomless pit that filled the center of the temple. Its eyes met Lara’s and she could see the pain and surprise in them. Then the ancient stone crumbled beneath the cat’s feet and it fell.

Lara crept to the edge and looked down. The pit was dark, with no sign of the bottom, but she could hear a faint whimpering from down below. Then the pit went silent.

Lara felt tears of shock and sorrow streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she cried out, heart twisting in her chest at the thought of the magnificent leopard falling to its death. “I’m so, so sorry!”

It was too much. The crash, her mother, the leopard, all of it. Lara stumbled to the door and slipped through the narrow opening out into the snow. The cold bit at her but she didn’t care. Freezing was better than starvation, and she couldn’t bear to live any longer. “Mother!” she screamed into the darkness. She collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Her arms wrapped around her narrow chest, a pathetic substitute for an embrace. Doubled over, she waited for the cold to overwhelm her. It couldn’t be long now. 

She heard it before she saw it. Slow, heavy footfalls in the snow. Looking up, she saw only a pair of legs, thick as tree trunks and covered in dense white fur. She sat back, letting her eyes travel upward, and felt her jaw drop.

The yeti surveyed her curiously, its horned head cocked to one side. It was easily ten feet tall, its fur long and shaggy and as pure white as the snow. Lara knew she ought to be terrified, but it appeared that all her terror had been used up for the day, for she felt only amazement and wonder. “. . . Hello,” she said hoarsely. 

The yeti did not reply. Reaching down, it picked her up with one hand and placed her on her feet. She staggered, legs numb, and the yeti caught her, guiding her to her feet once more. It looked her over, sparkling black eyes lingering on her face. Gently, it nudged her left shoulder, and Lara took the hint, spinning slowly in a circle. Belatedly she remembered the flare gun; she’d abandoned it after the leopard’s death, not that it would be any good to her now. But she had the sense that the beast was checking her for weapons. No doubt hunters had been out this way before, eager to catch and kill the mysterious creature of the mountains. 

Whatever the yeti saw, it must have been satisfactory, for it offered Lara its hand. Lara took it, surprised at the warmth of its enormous palm. The yeti began to lead her down a rocky path she hadn’t spotted before, picking its way between snow covered boulders. Lara did her best to follow, but her shoes were not meant for climbing and she caught her foot on a protruding chunk of ice. For one heart-stopping moment she was flying, headed straight for the edge of a ravine. Then the yeti’s hand closed around her waist, pulling her back to safety. Apparently unconvinced by Lara’s pathetic mountaineering skills, the yeti placed the girl on its shoulders and continued down the treacherous slope. Lara held tight to the beast’s horns, wondering where it was taking her. Did yetis eat humans? There were no such stories that she’d heard, and in any case, the creature could easily have killed her with a single blow. No, whatever else the yeti had in mind, it did not intend to make Lara its supper. 

They continued down the mountain for an hour, maybe more, as dawn slowly lightened the horizon. In the shadows of the mountains, the yeti’s fur blended perfectly with the snow. Lara wondered what she must look like: a black-clad child, skinny from a growth spurt, balanced atop a creature of legend. Though the cold chilled her back, the yeti was warm enough that she could appreciate her surroundings without huddling. By the time the sun’s rays began to set the snow sparkling, she was comfortable enough to talk. 

“I don’t imagine you can understand me,” she told her companion. “But I wanted to thank you for helping me. At least, I think you’re helping me. In any case, thank you for keeping me from falling, and not hurting me when you could have.”

The yeti made no indication that it had understood, but Lara could tell it was listening. The sound of her own voice was strangely comforting, and so she continued to talk at her silent rescuer. “My name is Lara. Lara Amelia Croft, in full. I’m from England – that’s a place a long way from here, with hardly any snow at all. My mother—” she hesitated, then pressed on. “She and I were headed for Kathmandu. She was to be a guest of the President. He would have been the sixth president I’ve met so far. I don’t know why he wanted to meet with her; no one tells me anything, and I really don’t care about politics, so it didn’t matter to me at the time. I just wanted an adventure.”

She fell silent, heart sinking. She’d found adventure after all, and lost her mother in the process. Grief returned like a cloak, but before it could envelop her fully she felt herself falling. She made a grab for the yeti’s horns and barely managed to hold in a scream. 

They were hanging over a ravine that had to be at least a thousand feet down. The yeti’s powerful hands gripped a protruding chunk of rock. For a split second she thought the creature had fallen by mistake, but then the yeti began to swing. _Of course_ , she mused, too excited by her discovery to be frightened. _Primates._

For centuries people had hypothesized that yetis were descended from primates, the same way human beings were. From the way this yeti moved from hanging icicle to narrow ledge, she could clearly see the resemblance to the howler monkeys of the South American jungle. Of course, their trees were much safer places than this obstacle course of ice and snow. But the yeti seemed perfectly comfortable, and Lara felt herself relaxing. It felt like flying, this high-speed traversal of the Himalayas. She was almost disappointed when the yeti landed on solid ground once more. 

They were standing in the enormous mouth of a cave that continued back as far as the eye could see. The yeti did not pause, walking calmly into the darkness. Lara assumed it had better night-vision than humans, perhaps even infrared. She clung on tight as they trekked through a web of pitch-black tunnels. The sound of dripping water was amplified by the smooth walls, every drop echoing and rebounding. Lara closed her eyes. She was not afraid of the dark, but this was a bit of an exceptional situation. She hoped the yeti would remember her on its back and watch out for any overhangs or protruding bits of rock. 

The tunnel opened up quite suddenly into a vast cavern. Light filtered in from a massive ice sheet that served as the roof. Lara had little time to marvel before her attention fell upon a circle of flat stones set very deliberately into the cavern floor. On each of the six stones sat a yeti, most of them larger than the one she rode. They surveyed her yeti with glittering black eyes, and it was clear they were not pleased by her presence. Two went so far as to stand, their great horns coming to within a foot of the glassy ice ceiling. Lara’s yeti reached up and plucked her off of its fur like an apple off a tree. He set her down behind him, pressing down on her shoulders in what was an obvious command to stay put. Then it lumbered forward to stand by the seventh, empty stone in the circle. 

Lara heard a strange, phantom whining sound. She shook her head, hoping to clear it, but the sound was still there. It sounded like when she would run her finger around the top rim of a wine glass at dinner, before her mother put a stop to such things. The yetis were pacing and, apparently, conversing, though she heard nothing but the odd sound. It took far too long for her to realize that the sound was coming from her companions. She supposed it made sense for the yetis to have developed a different sort of communication, one meant to cut through thick layers of ice and snow. 

From the way the yetis moved, she could tell they were arguing. More than once she saw a yeti gesture at her, and she could guess what they were arguing about. Her yeti seemed adamant about something, After what seemed like an age, it returned to her and picked her up in its clawed hands, bringing her over to the circle and setting her down in the center. Lara swallowed hard. The yeti in front of her was the largest, and its massive teeth curved up from beneath its bottom lip. Giddy, she did the only thing that seemed right.

She bowed. 

The yetis froze in their argument. All glistening black eyes were upon her as she rose gracefully and crossed her arms in the way she’d seen her mother do a thousand times. “My name is Lara Amelia Croft,” she said, proud that her voice held no trace of a shake. “My mother and I were on our way to Kathmandu when our plane crashed. Your compatriot—” she gestured at her yeti, “was so kind as to save me from the mountaintop, for which I am grateful. I know you would much rather I wasn’t here, and I understand, I do. But if—” she stumbled over her words. “If you know a way to get me back to civilization, to my own kind, I would be forever in your debt. Thank you.”

She fell silent. The yetis struck up their strange conversation once more, but this time it seemed less aggressive. The largest yeti gestured to the ground beneath Lara’s feet, but when she looked down she saw nothing. Suddenly the ice beneath her thin loafers began to glow blue. She looked around wildly, her heart racing, and caught her yeti’s eye. It nodded to her, and for some reason the gesture gave her comfort. Even when beams of light began to break through the ice all around her, she refused to close her eyes. The light grew brighter and brighter until it overwhelmed everything. Lara felt her feet lift off the ground, and then everything faded away.

…

Mrs. Li was halfway through hanging up her washing when she froze, mouth dropping open to gape. From the steep path that led up the mountainside, a little girl was approaching. The girl was a Westerner, dressed for much warmer weather, and she seemed to have no guardian accompanying her. She was weaving ever so slightly, as though too exhausted to walk in a straight line. Mrs. Li stepped out from behind the clothesline and the girl stopped in front of her. The child swayed from side to side. “Where are you going, all alone?” Mrs. Li asked, belatedly realizing that the girl could not understand her. Switching to mime, she gestured to her house and then made an awkward imitation of someone eating food. The girl nodded gratefully and Mrs. Li took her by the hand, leading her into the little house and sitting her down at the table with a bowl full of rice and spiced meat. 

As the girl ate hungrily, Mrs. Li took her phone down off the wall and dialed the number for emergency services. “A plane crash?” she asked with interest, after telling the operator her story. “Yes, the girl’s foreign. Could be British. No, I didn’t get her name. Tell me what to say and I’ll ask her.”

Mrs. Li listened closely, memorizing the strange sounds of English words. With the phone receiver still in her hand, she approached the seated girl. “What—is—your—name” she intoned carefully, then held out the receiver.

The girl looked up at her with bottomless brown eyes. “My name is Lara Amelia Croft.”


End file.
